


SEE YOU IN HELL

by wayvbabey



Series: NCT HALLOWEEN SERIES: NCT Dream [6]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27192170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wayvbabey/pseuds/wayvbabey
Summary: Being the only angel in Hell isn’t fun, but someone had to take up the job. Huang Renjun has been a pain right from the start, but this year, at the Halloween gala, you’re determined to confront him about his behaviour.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Reader
Series: NCT HALLOWEEN SERIES: NCT Dream [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956091
Kudos: 10





	SEE YOU IN HELL

-

For a place with no natural light, Hell sure does a fantastic job at making itself look nice.

The chandelier that hangs above the hall reminds you of home. Not in the sense that you live on a chandelier, but because of the light.

Angels represent light. You are light. Shouldn’t you gravitate towards what you are?

So what, then, you muse, am I doing here?

Because here is the furthest away from any light in every sense. Hell is dark, Hell is cold. If light is hope, then Hell is the absence of light, of all that is good in the world.

But you will admit, they do know how to throw a party.

Not without your help, of course, but their effort and tenacity is to be admired. The hall that everyone is packed into looks like something you would find in an old mortal castle. Every piece of silverware is polished until it shines and the faint sound of classical music dances around the room, so intriguing that even you can’t help but tap your foot to the gentle rhythm of the violins.

But the false luxuries that dwell here don’t interest you in the slightest. Perhaps it’s just in your nature to be naturally uncomfortable here, but you are aware you stick out like a sore thumb. Not only is your aura the purest one in the room, so pure that you’ve caught a few demons scattering away from you in disgust, but you’ve also opted for a lighter coloured dress, as opposed to the darker colours the others wear. 

Being here is like an itch you can never scratch. The longer you stay the more you yearn to leave, which leaves you now musing as to why you’re here in the first place.

All those millennia ago, when there had been a ‘job vacancy’ in the Underworld that only an angel could fill, you had bravely stepped up to the plate. It was a foolish move to feed your vanity, as all the other angels congratulated you on your sacrifice. Though you don’t age you had been so naïve to think it was worth it. Now you spend half your time down in this vile place, like a twisted version of Persephone.

No matter how holy, any being that is isolated from others of their kind for long periods will begin to show resentment. You try not to, opting to keep an open mind where you can, but you aren’t exactly liked down here. There are a few you would call 'friends’ and even fewer 'coworkers’. To each other, you are all tolerable at best.

You simply don’t fit in.

“Miss Y/N,” your name is spoken like a request and you flinch involuntarily. All those years ago your name was holy, revered by all the mortals, yet here it is tossed around like a common phrase. You’re surprised they even remembered to use a form of address.

When you see who is standing before you, the use of 'Miss’ suddenly makes sense. Azael, one of the only demons you would consider a 'friend’, holds out a glass of champagne to you, eyebrows raised.

Although you have no intention of drinking it, you take the flute anyway.

“Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he hums, coming to stand by your side so that the two of you are observing the party. “I did not expect you would be here. They tell me you leave frequently.”

“I do,” you nod. As far as you know, Azael works in the lower depths of Hell, no doubt torturing the lost souls. You can picture him now, leaning over their battered bodies and crooning to them in his soft, exotic accent.

“So you are staying for the party?”

It is an odd thing, to have a celebration in Hell, but you’d quickly grown to learn that Halloween is as widely celebrated down here as it is on Earth, albeit in different ways. Here, Halloween is a time to engage in sin.

On the surface, the hall is very beautiful, but within it are all sorts of temptations that await a moment of weakness. A mere human would drop to their knees at the sight of the gambling, the alcohol and the plethora of beautiful creatures swaying on the floor, but your resistance is high.

“I have nothing better to do,” you sigh out. Attending tonight wasn’t compulsory, but it would look bad if Heaven’s ambassador refused to attend.

“Well, you are a pretty face here,” he snorts, gulping his champagne. “Down below, there is no beauty whatsoever. Unless you like the wounds and the blood. Some do.”

He nods head to a few certain individuals in the crowd and, despite yourself, you giggle.

“So how much longer will you stay?”

“A couple more months,” you reply, swirling your drink around.

“You cannot switch?”

“I’ve never asked.”

He frowns, confused. “You don’t ask, you don’t get, pretty girl. Ah-” he grins, “but I forget. They do it differently up there, no? If you ask to change…?”

You don’t reply. The champagne becomes ever so tempting.

“Shame,” he says it as if it isn’t a shame at all. “To be bound by so many rules.”

“Rules don’t have to be binding.” You counter, folding your arms. “They were made for a reason.”

“Of course,” Azael soothes, though he looks amused. “And a bird that has never stepped out of its cage does not know what it is like to be free.”

“Careful,” you warn him, finally letting your temper best you.

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he states. “Don’t take it to heart. Anyway, your friend is looking for you.”

Your head whips up, because you don’t have a friend, not in Hell.

“Huang,” Azael points, “doesn’t take his eyes off you. Maybe it has something to do with that dress of yours, little angel, but they tell me the two of you don’t play nice.”

Your fingers clench around the glass. Huang Renjun is in the corner of the room with his back to the wall, a glass of dark red liquid in his hand and eyes that are boring into you.

He looks too good to be true, a temptation that not even you can refrain from staring at. You would never admit it, but sometimes you wonder how God could have allowed such a beautiful creature to trickle down to here.

Huang Renjun makes your existence in Hell just that: Hell.

“Oh for the love of-” you inhale in an attempt to control yourself before pushing your glass into Azael’s hand. “Here, take this. Otherwise I’m going to down it.”

He smirks. “Quando a Roma, lady.”

You’ll do anything, anything, to get away from Huang Renjun. Even head on over to the banquet tables full of food that no-one seems to be touching, which is where your 'coworkers’ are. If he lays eyes on you one more time you’re afraid you’ll do something you’ll regret, like launching a glass at him.

In Hell, you spend most of your time in what can only be described as an office. Despite the chaos, destruction and sin that plagues the Underworld, it is a tightly run ship, involving numbers and meetings and reports. Something you have been doing for years.

Mileena, a raven-haired demon who is in charge of sickness-related deaths, stares you down as you head over. Not unkindly, just bluntly, as if she doesn’t expect you to be here.

“Y/N,” she welcomes you with a straight face. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“A couple more months,” you parrot back, practically barging into the little circle of demons. “Just… enjoying the party.”

Shion, a redheaded incubus, snorts. “Are you really?”

“What’s not to like?”

“Touché.” He grins back, “and here I was thinking you wouldn’t show up because Huang kicked your ass in that meeting the other day.”

Embarrassment burns through you as you think back to yesterday when Renjun had decided not only to show up late to your presentation but also take you through a series of vigorous questions, essentially dismissing all your hard work.

“I'm kidding,” Shion assures you once he sees the look on your face. “Loosen up,” he hands you a drink, “we’re at a party.”

“I don’t drink.” You pass it on to Mileena, who downs it in one.

“You really are here for appearances, huh.” Clo, a dark-skinned drude, scans you up and down. “Are you not able to relax at all?”

Who would relax here? You want to retort. Instead, you shrug.

“I don’t typically tend to open up when I’m at work.”

“Well, what do you do when you’re not working?” Another incubus butts in.

“I relax,” you smile at him, as pleasantly as possible, and enjoy the way his face falls.

“Damn, I thought you angels were supposed to be nice.” Shion groans. “One drink?”

“No, Shion.”

“A drink or you tell us about your personal life,” Mileena suggests. The others’ eyes light up immediately and you shrink back. This was not how you’d wanted this conversation to go.

“What’s the commotion?” A smooth voice butts in, at the same time you feel a presence ghost over your hips.

Huang Renjun joins the circle from right behind you. To anyone else you know it looks like he’s snuck up on you, but his fingertips trace over your dress lightly before a sharp pinch is delivered to your skin.

You have to hold in a gasp so as to not alert the others, while Renjun stands there, perfectly innocent.

Of course he would come over to where you are, probably just to see you squirm.

“Just talking with Y/N,” Clo purrs, eyeing Renjun’s velvet suit in a way that makes your skin crawl. You watch the two of them in silent disgust, running over in your head how easy it would be for you to excuse yourself.

Renjun notices your staring and the corner of his lips twitch. “See something you like?”

You glare at him. “Who decided to put you in red?”

“You don’t like it?” His smile grows wider at your discontent and you don’t even bother replying, instead pursing your lips and looking away.

The inhabitants of Hell, you’ve noticed, tend to submit to those of a higher status, so it’s no surprise when Shion spills everything to Renjun.

“We’re discussing Y/N’s personal life,” he grins. “Or her lack of.”

“Don’t you have some souls to torture or something?” You snap, turning to him.

“Y/N has a social life?” Renjun blinks, his face a perfect picture of innocence. “Huh. I thought she was too busy reciting Bible verses.”

The group laughs again and you bite down on the inside of your lip to stop your anger.

“Don’t worry,” you spit. “I’ll be gone soon.”

The sudden change of his face, from cruel humour to shock, comes as a surprise to you, but as quick as it appears, it’s gone.

“You won’t be missed.” He drones out.

You recoil as if hit, allowing your contempt and hatred for the place you’re forced to stay to take over.

“Good.” With narrowed eyes, you draw in on yourself and stalk away from the conversation. The crowds practically part as you take your leave, exiting through one of the smaller doors and entering the corridors furnished with dark red rugs that stretch all the way down and low-hanging lights. If you were any calmer you would appreciate the fine detail, but at the moment the only thing you can think of is getting away from this horrible place.

Which means going to your room.

“Y/N!”

Your hands curl into fists as you recognise the voice chasing you.

“Hey- Y/N! Don’t walk away.”

You don’t retaliate and instead walk faster to try and shake Renjun off. In times like these, you can’t help but feel a little claustrophobic, wanting nothing more than to spread your wings and take off into the open air. Of course, there was nothing open about Hell. Everything was meant to confine you.

“Are you seriously throwing a fit after what I said?”

His hand finally reaches for your shoulder and you swat it off, spinning around and pushing him away from you, which so happens to cause him to hit the wall. Right behind him is a door, and you don’t hesitate in kicking it open and pushing him in there.

A quick glance up shows you that you’ve entered a storage room of some sorts, equally as dark and unsettling as the rest of the place.

Taking in Renjun’s surprised expression you use the opportunity to seal the two of you off from any prying eyes.

“Okay, what is going on with you?” After slamming the door you turn on your heel to face him. Renjun has his hands in his pockets and wears a smirk that suggests he finds your anger amusing.

You wouldn’t put it past him.

“You’ve been so annoying recently.” You continue. “Everywhere I go, you’re there, always interfering. What’s happened to you?”

Running a hand through his hair, Renjun says nothing, instead stepping closer and closer, until he’s got you backed up against the wall with one hand on the door to stop it from opening. And to stop you trying to get out.

“Would you believe me,” he comes closer, staring into your eyes before looking away to map out every intricate detail on your face, “if I said I missed you?”

“Missed me?” You play off your flustered state with a scoff, worming your hand in-between the two of you and placing it on his chest to try and get some space between you and him, though he doesn’t let up. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Come on, Y/N,” Renjun’s voice drops a little until it’s nothing more than a slow whisper right beside your ear. “How long are you going to keep playing these games?”

Something within you snaps, and you find the strength to push him off.

“Huang Renjun!”

He blinks. “What.”

“We’re at work!” You glare at him heatedly. “You can’t just go around assaulting me when no-one’s looking!”

Renjun sighs, closing his eyes for a moment and drawing himself up to his full height. Then he opens them, and a pout forms on his beautiful face.

“At work?” He repeats. “Y/N, I live here, and I haven’t talked to you properly in ages!”

“It’s been two weeks,” you counter. “I’ve seen humans go longer.”

“But I’m not human,” Renjun steps forward and takes your hand in his, smoothing circles onto your skin. “I’m too selfish, I just want to keep you down here with me, all to myself.”

“I know,” you sigh, squeezing his palm gently. “But we can’t let anyone know. Not until I’ve figured out a loophole that’ll allow us to be together.”

Renjun’s rejected sigh breaks your heart, so you draw him in for a hug and place your head on his chest. You know that being in a secret relationship is slowly wearing him down because it has the same effect on you. Heaven used to be a place you loved and longed for when you weren’t there. But now, you don’t want to be anywhere that doesn’t have Renjun.

How exactly he’d wormed his way into your heart, you have no idea. For the first few centuries on the job he’d been shy. You’d catch him glancing at you in the corridors but look away as soon as you made eye contact.

When you’d finally had to work together, the attraction was instant. You spent years dancing around each other, and it didn’t help that your visits to Hell were infrequent. Every time you came back Renjun had to figure out his relationship with you.

So the safest thing to do had been to play it off as enemies, or something very close to it. But after centuries of hiding, the two of you are growing tired.

“You look amazing, by the way.” He whispers into your hair. “For an angel, anyway.”

“Hey,” you nudge him gently, “don’t be mean.”

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” With one last squeeze, Renjun lets go. You chase after his hands and intertwine yours, swinging them softly.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“Oh?” You hear Renjun’s smile in his tone. “You do that?”

“Renjun.” You can’t hide the laugh in your voice. “About us. I think we should run away.”

There’s a pause. “Run away?”

“Yeah. To Earth.”

“Earth?” Renjun places two fingers under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. His nose is wrinkled adorably, eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Why Earth?”

“It’s neutral ground,” you bat your eyelashes at him. “I think, after all these millenia, we could try and cash in a holiday or something. A permanent holiday.”

He grins. “Who’s supposed to be the angel here?”

“Renjun,” you whine again and he laughs, leaning down to boop your nose with his.

“I like the idea,” he whispers, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But, as much as I like this, we’ve been in here far too long.”

“No…”

“Yes, darling. I’m sorry,” he straightens up. “We’ve got to get back out there.”

“We never get enough time,” you complain, helping him straighten his tie.

“Well,” Renjun starts, and you immediately lock on to the devilish tone in his voice. “If I were, say, to get extremely drunk tonight, and you made an exit a little while later, I’m sure I could leave my room open for you.”

“How would you know we wouldn’t get caught?” You can’t deny that the idea entices you, but your angelic mind is programmed to immediately think of the worries.

“Oh, I don’t,” he assures you, coming closer until his lips are centimetres from yours. “But where’s the fun in that?”

-


End file.
